


Satisfaction

by Cyberfairie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM Scene, Hand Jobs, M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6171790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberfairie/pseuds/Cyberfairie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my entry for this round of Wham!Splat!Porn!<br/>My prompt was: Anticipation</p><p>Summary:  Dorian has learned in his time with Bull that sometimes the greatest release comes while being restrained.  The greatest pleasure from pain.  The perfect sense of satisfaction from pleasing not himself but his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction

Dorian applied the last line of kohl with a steady, if slightly hurried hand, his fingers happy to close the tin and reach for the one containing the gold powder.  He supposed it was foolish to bother when both would just be streaks on his cheeks in an hour or so, but Dorian appreciated the way the ritual quieted his mind.  As for Bull, he seemed to appreciate the effort, both before and after the look was wrecked.  And so, Dorian reached for his thick sable brush and pulled it through the gold powder, tapping off the excess before applying it sparingly to both cheeks.  

Leaning forward towards the mirror, Dorian tilted his head slightly to the left then the right, applying just a touch more powder to the left cheek before checking both again and deciding they were perfect.  Carefully tapping the excess powder back into the tin, Dorian closed the lid and laid the brush to the side.  Sitting back he took in the entire effect, from his hair, freshly washed and styled just so, to his mustache waxed within an inch of its life to affect the proper degree of curl.

Reaching out one more time, he lifted the lid of a small jar and ran his pinky over the softened beeswax before applying it to his bottom and top lip.  Giving his reflection a small pout he decided that the soft shine from the beeswax was the perfect finishing touch and turned to slide his feet into a pair of soft kidskin slippers.  The slippers were matched with a pair of leather leggings so pale they were almost white, and a midnight blue tunic.  There was no real need to dress up as the clothes would be removed within moments, but there was also no need to go wandering around the keep looking like a pauper.  

And speaking of the keep, Dorian made his way to the door and slipped out into the hallway, forcing his steps to be measured rather than hurrying as he so wanted to.  Entering the great hall, he was pleased to see no sign of Varric.  Sometimes, on nights like tonight, he wasn’t so lucky and he would be stuck making polite conversation while he forced his fingers not to twitch impatiently against his leg until the dwarf finally realized that Dorian apparently had a destination beyond him and Varric would send him off with a wink and a softly muttered good night.

Free of such interruptions tonight, Dorian slipped out of the keep and down the stairs.  Forcing each foot to flatten on a step rather than bounding down them, Dorian noted the slight chill in air, a sure sign that winter would be here before they knew it.  Already grass beneath his feet cracked with frost as he crossed the upper courtyard and made his way up the stairs to the battlement.  Eleven short steps, a quick turn to the left then thirty one more and he was standing only feet away from Bull’s door.

Anticipation flooded Dorian’s senses as he forced himself to walk almost glacially.  Already Dorian could feel his mind quieting in favor of noticing the way the thin mountain air made the stars seem impossibly brighter, and closer.  The way the thin slippers let him feel every dip and crack in the stone beneath his feet in a way his boots didn’t.  The way his leathers clung to his legs so tightly he felt the shift of each muscle at every step.  This, this was the reason he insisted on getting ready for these nights in his own room rather than in Bull’s, the walk over every bit as much a part of his preparation as what had gone on in his room earlier.

Finding himself standing before the battered door that would lead to Bull, Dorian paused for a moment to draw in a deep breath and hold it for a three count before releasing it, his thoughts settling further as he did so.  Dorian knocked, only having to wait a moment before Bull’s gruffly barked ‘come in’ caused a shiver to course down his spine as he hurried to comply.

Stepping inside and closing the door behind him, Dorian only had time to note several fat candles covering the table before he lowered his eyes to the floor.  Standing with his feet shoulder width apart, his hands clasp loosely behind him, Dorian waited for Bull to speak.  This too was part of the process, sometimes he would be left waiting for what felt like hours, other times only minutes, all according to some schedule of Bull’s.  Which was of course the point of all of this, of him being able to…

“You look so handsome, Dorian.  So put together….we’ll have to do something about that.”

“Yes, Ser,” Dorian whispered, a tiny shiver coursing through him at the way Bull said his name, drawing out each letter as though the one word was the key to Bull’s whole world.  That was another thing about nights like tonight, there would be no softly uttered Kadan or Amatus, not until the scene had played through to the end.  

Because on nights like tonight Dorian didn’t want the soft touches and whispered sighs, tonight he wanted…or more accurately, _needed_ , the escape that came with abandoning control to Ser.  Needed to let go of the fact that earlier in the week they had killed dozens of his countrymen in battle, needed to forget that it was _his_ people who had created the monstrosities known as Red Templars, needed to forget that there was a reason people spat in his direction and refused to eat at the same table as him even as he fought by their side.  

He was under no illusion that anything that happened tonight would fix any of that, but for one night, one glorious night, he could let go of the control he held so tightly to at all times that his hands ached from it.  He could forget everything he should be doing, everything that needed doing and trust that Bull, that Ser, would know what he needed…

“Strip and kneel, Dorian.  Eyes closed.”

“Yes, Ser,” Dorian whispered, no hint of his usual flippancy.  Knowing what Bull expected, he crossed over to where a small stool sat in the corner of the room and set to work removing first his tunic, then his slippers and trousers and finally his smalls.  The slippers were tucked under the stool, the remaining items folded neatly and laid on top of it.  Then, taking two steps to the right, he knelt on the rug Bull placed there specifically for him.  His knees shoulder width apart, ass sitting perfectly on his heels and his palms laying open and face up on his thighs.  The sigh that escaped him as he closed his eyes shook his entire body.

Drawing in and releasing another long, slow breath, Dorian forced his mind to settle, knowing he could be here for awhile.  Just like when he first entered the room, Dorian never knew how long he would be left kneeling here waiting for whatever signal Bull wanted to see or moment he knew to be right before continuing.  Kaffas, there had been nights when it felt like Bull was never going to speak, that the entire night would pass with him kneeling in this spot, the soft brush of the carpet beneath his knees the only contact he would have.

It never worked that way of course, no matter what Dorian’s mind told him.  At some point Bull would whisper the words that would bring Dorian to his feet.  Bull’s warm hand would curl around his wrist, raising it until it could be wrapped instead by the soft leather restraints Bull favored because they allowed Dorian to writhe and struggle without leaving bruises that would be questioned the next day.

“You look beautiful like that, Dorian,” Bull’s voice was low and warm and washed over Dorian only a moment before the Qunari’s hand stroked his head.  “But for now I need you on your feet.”

“Yes Ser," Dorian whispered, pulled from his musing in an instant, all his attention focused on Bull.  

With a grace that had Bull growling with appreciation he rose without assistance.  Two steps forward and Bull was reaching for Dorian's wrist, dragging it up until Dorian felt the slight pull of the cuff, placed high enough into the wall that he had to rise up off his heels but not so far that he was forced to his tiptoe.  Once Bull was happy with the buckle of the first restraint he shifted, his blunted claws running lightly down Dorian’s arm and across his shoulders until he could pick up the other wrist and repeat the process.  This time however, Bull’s claws coursed down Dorian’s arm and across one shoulder before trailing, only a single claw now, down the length of his spine.

A shiver followed Bull’s passage as the spy ran his hand firmly down Dorian’s leg, forcing his foot a little farther apart, just beyond shoulder width, before wrapping the cuff around his ankle.  The leather of this cuff was firmer, a compromise they had agreed on in earlier days when Dorian had wanted to see the signs of his struggles but hadn’t necessarily wanted others to notice.  Releasing the cuff, Bull ran his hand up the inside of Dorian’s leg, his touch firm without being bruising as he traveled halfway up Dorian’s thigh before jumping to the right leg and beginning to trace his path back down.

Another small correction of Dorian’s posture and Bull was buckling the last of the cuffs, his finger sliding in between Dorian’s skin and the cuff to make certain, as always, that he hadn’t tightened them too tightly before sitting back on his heels.

Dorian bit back a whimper, knowing from the sound of Bull’s breathing that he was still right there but mourning the loss of contact.

“Hush, Dorian.”  Bull’s voice rumbled right in his ear, the man’s hands settling heavy on his shoulders and squeezing a couple times before moving slowly down his back, pressing at muscles and coursing over ribs as he checked to make certain Dorian was healthy enough for what he had planned.  

Apparently satisfied, Bull curled his hands around Dorian’s hips tightly, pulling the mage back against his own half-hard cock as he whispered, “You ready to start, Dorian?”

“Yes…Ser,” Dorian stuttered, the feel of Bull rubbing against his ass forcing an answering twitch from his own cock only to be suddenly let go again.

“Good,” Bull purred, his voice deeper than it had been only moments ago.  “You going to be able to keep your eyes shut or you want a blindfold?”

Dorian was tempted to accept the blindfold but knew that it would please Bull more if he was able to keep his eyes shut of his own volition.  “I’ll keep them shut, Ser.”

“Good,” Bull purred again, his voice sounding a little further away for a moment before Dorian heard him pick something up from the table.  Dorian tensed instinctively, his mind trying to figure out what Bull would be using tonight.  Sometimes Bull liked to start with the crop, sharp biting bits of pain that faded quickly, other nights it was the flogger, the multiple strands giving more of a thudding rather than a sharp pain.  For sharp pain, Bull favored the cat, its knotted lengths of braided leather guaranteeing Dorian felt it no matter how light the hit.  For that reason alone Bull rarely started with cat, though the nights he did were always memorable ones.

“Relax, Dorian,” Bull hissed, pulling Dorian from his musings.

“Sorry, Ser.”

Bull huffed behind him, waiting until Dorian forced his muscles to loosen before speaking.  “Watchword.”

“Katoh, Ser.”

“Good.  You don’t need to count these, you just need to know that I’ll continue until I think you’ve had enough.”

“Yes, Ser,” Dorian whispered, feeling something deep inside him settle further at Bull’s words, his muscles relaxing just a little bit more as his head dropped slightly forward.

Only the slight intake of Bull’s breath gave Dorian warning before the flogger hit his left shoulder, the dull thud of the initial hit quickly separating into the pull of each strand against his skin and Bull allowed it to draw across his shoulder blade before pulling it away and quickly repeating the motion against his other shoulder.  Again and again in quick succession Bull placed a series of hits across his shoulders and upper back, expertly avoiding his lower back and potential problems of hitting his kidneys and other organs.

The gentle kiss of suede quickly built into an uncomfortable tingle as Dorian’s skin warmed both from the nonstop hits and the fact that Bull slowly built up strength behind each blow.  What had felt like a caress was now sharper, each strand feeling like the raking of Bull’s claws down his spine, pain mixing with a heady sense of pleasure, his back bowing at as he arched towards each blow.

Then, just as he had gotten into the rhythm of Bull’s movements, Bull changed up his approach, the flogger striking down on his left buttock instead of his shoulder, the thudding pain against fresh skin drawing a low moan from Dorian’s throat.

“That’s it, Dorian, let me hear you,” Bull encouraged, the flogger slapping against Dorian’s right cheek and pulling another moan from him.

Bull varied his strikes after that, shoulder or butt, left or right, hard or soft, all with no pattern that Dorian’s mind could work out until finally it…just…stopped…trying.  It was like letting his magic loose the first time, like falling face first into a pool of warm water, both everything and nothing and all he could do was shudder with absolute relief.

How long he floated for he wasn’t certain, but somehow, between one breath he hadn’t been aware of drawing and the next, he heard Bull whispering to him.  Nothing important, just silly little things about how good Dorian was and how proud of him Bull was, how much he loved that Dorian felt safe enough with him to let go and how he should just continue to float until he felt like coming back.

The thing was, about the time Dorian’s mind began to make sense of Bull’s words, he also noticed that Bull’s huge hands were tracing soothing patterns across Dorian’s back, his own flesh so warm that they made Bull’s feel cool in comparison and suddenly Dorian _wanted_ to be back here.

Because while floating was good, so was the feel of Bull’s sheets against his skin, and when had Bull had time to get him off the wall?  “Amatus?”

“Oh, he speaks,” Bull chuckled, his words pitched low and soft even as his hands continued to stroke at Dorian’s skin.

“How…how long,” Dorian muttered, only to moan a moment later as Bull’s finger traced what had to be a welt, the skin sensitive enough that Dorian knew he’d have a bruise tomorrow.

“Not long, Kadan.  Relax,” Bull chuffed, his breath hot against Dorian’s skin as he punctuated his words with a kiss to Dorian’s shoulder.

Dorian mumbled something, even he wasn’t sure what, drawing another low laugh from his lover.  Now that he was no longer floating, Dorian could feel the warmth of Bull’s body stretched out on his side next to him on the bed. It was a natural instinct to scoot closer until they were touching from shoulder to ankle.

Bull’s touches became less comforting, more tempting as he curled his hand around Dorian’s throat, not tight but certainly claiming as his teeth nipped at Dorian’s earlobe.  “You ready for something else, Kadan?”

“Please,” Dorian whispered, arching into Bull’s touch as his hand slid from Dorian’s throat to run lightly down his spine before slipping lower.

“This what you want?” Bull whispered wickedly, one thick finger teasing Dorian’s hole before slipping in without resistance.  Dorian moaned, low and deep, thankful that preparing himself had been part of the whole process he’d gone through earlier, since it meant that Bull could now easily work a second finger in to join the first.

It was like every nerve in his body was being stimulated at the same time, the heat from the beating combining with his muscles, suddenly tense with need and the sensation of Bull’s fingers scissoring apart before curling together and just brushing at his prostate.  His cock, only moments ago barely interested, was now hard as stone as Dorian rocked into the sheets and moaned deeply.  “Please, Amatus,” he whimpered, uncertain if it was a plea to stop or to never end, though he had a feeling it was closer to the latter.

“That’s it, Big Guy,” Bull rumbled from beside him, his body shifting against Dorian’s as he rolled over one leg to position himself between Dorian’s knees, his free hand sliding beneath Dorian’s belly to pull him back, driving the fingers he had buried in Dorian’s ass deeper.

Dorian heard the pop of a cork and a second later a small stream of oil hit his ass, Bull’s thumb catching it and dragging it towards Dorian’s tight hole, a third finger soon joining the first two as Bull began to slowly corkscrew them in and out of Dorian’s ass.

Pushing his hips back, Dorian whimpered softly, wanting to wrap his fingers around his own cock and tug to the rhythm Bull had going, but he knew Bull wouldn’t want that.  Knew that _he_ did not in fact want that.   Because for all that he basked in the pretty words and endearments, tonight was still about yielding control to Bull, even in this, and so he kept his hands where they were.

“So good for me,” Bull purred, as if he knew the struggle Dorian was having.  “Just one more minute...”

Dorian whimpered, grinding his hips against Bull’s fingers only to have them pulled from him a moment later, the slick sound of oil against flesh drawing another moan from him as he visualized Bull coating himself in oil, pictured those thick, blunt fingers that had just been inside him now curled around Bull’s cock, making sure he was slick enough to slide into Dorian without…

Bull’s fingers curled around Dorian’s hip, holding him still as Bull’s cock began to slip through his tight ring of muscle only to pause, right on the cusp of giving Dorian what he needed.  Any other night Dorian would be demanding Bull move, taunting the larger man with his body and his mouth until he gave Dorian what he wanted but tonight, tonight Dorian just bit back a sigh of frustration and forced himself to go pliant beneath Bull’s grasp.

He was rewarded with a little growl of pleasure from his lover, the hand at his hips tightening possessively as he began to slide into Dorian inch by pleasurable inch.  The sigh Dorian had bit back turned into a deep moan, one that lasted until Bull was finally bottomed out, his hips resting snugly against Dorian’s as the warrior leaned forward to rest his body gently along the length of Dorian’s back.

Muscles and skin pummeled earlier protested the contact even as Dorian’s mind sank back into that happy place until he was riding the cusp, not quite flying and yet not quite present as Bull placed a gentle kiss to the spot between his shoulder blades.  “So fucking good for me, Kadan,” Bull murmured, his hips thrusting forward gently as he began to move in Dorian with the same slow confidence he’d used to swing the flogger earlier.

“That’s it, Kadan,” Bull whispered between kisses pressed to Dorian’s skin, his thumb rubbing little circles at the hollow of Dorian’s hip.  “Let me take care of you…fuck, you feel so good.  All hot and tight around me.”

“Amatus…” Dorian began, his body basking in Bull’s attention even as he somehow needed… _more_.

“Shhhh, I know.  I’ve got you,” Bull whispered, shifting once more so that he was kneeling behind Dorian, his body in the right position to thrust harder and faster, each stroke hitting Dorian’s sweet spot until the only sounds Dorian could make were somewhere between a gasp and a moan, all want and need and fuck if Bull didn’t curl his fingers around his cock soon Dorian was going to come untouched.

Then, as if he’d read Dorian’s mind, Bull’s hand flattened, sliding forward and down until he could wrap his hand around Dorian’s cock and the sheer relief he felt almost had Dorian coming right then.  “Amatus…”

“Told you, I’ve got you, Big Guy,” Bull chuckled, changing the pace of his thrusts so that he could stroke Dorian’s cock at the same speed, his hand clenching tightly around Dorian’s entire length every time he drove deep then stroking up and twisting his hand at the top as he pulled almost all the way out of his lover.

“Fasta vass,” Dorian mumbled, sweat beading on his brow and dropping to the bed below, torn between thrusting himself back onto Bull’s cock or forward into his grip as he felt his insides coil, a razor edge of tension building in him as he muttered incoherently in Tevene until finally, Bull reached around with his free hand and gently cupped Dorian’s balls and he shattered, his orgasm overtaking him in waves as Bull continued to stroke him until with an intense shudder, every muscle in Dorian’s body went lax.

He came to at the feeling of Bull shifting them both onto their sides, his cock slipping free pulling a little whimper from Dorian.  Pressing a kiss against Dorian’s shoulder, Bull chuckled.  “Feeling better, Big Guy?”

Dorian hummed satisfactorily and reached for one of Bull’s hands, pulling it up until he could place a kiss to the knuckles.  “Any better and I’d be dead, but you didn’t…”

Bull’s laughter shook the bed.  “You really think you could come like that and not drag me with you?  Shit, for a minute I thought I was gonna crush you…”

Dorian chuckled, waving his hand lazily in the air.  “Feel free to crush away, Amatus.”

Another deep laugh and Bull’s hand was curling around Dorian’s waist, hugging Dorian tightly to him as he whispered in Dorian’s ear, “Might take you up on that another time, Kadan.  For now, rest.”

Dorian took him at his word, his muscles going pleasantly lax though he knew he’d bear the marks of their efforts in the morning.  Kaffas, at least he _hoped_ he’d have marks, he rather liked them, after all.


End file.
